


Sacred Love (Our Cross To Bear Remix)

by a_q



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Blood, Blow Jobs, Clothing, Community: kink_bingo, Established Relationship, F/M, Married Couple, Remix, Rough Sex, Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-21
Updated: 2011-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-21 14:59:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_q/pseuds/a_q
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remix of my fic 'Sacred Love' for my first Kink Bingo line. Story has a new beginning and new ending, to fill the square 'worship'.<br/>Moira is both the object and the medium of the worship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacred Love (Our Cross To Bear Remix)

Moira stared at the dresses in mute desperation. A whole closet full of dresses and yet she had nothing to wear. She picked up the emerald green silk dress, and the chocolate brown gown and held them against herself in front of the mirror. With exasperated sigh she threw them on the bed. Nothing felt right.

“How about the little black dress on the left?” Charles asked, without lifting his eyes from the stack of reports he was reading.

“This?” Moira pulled one of the several black dresses from the rack. She held it against her and looked at the mirror again. The dress was simple, but there was an elegant pleading on the waistline, and the fabric was heavy and luxurious. “Do you really think so? It is pretty, but...”

“Yes, you should wear that one. I like that dress on you,” Charles said, looking up. “It goes well with the mink coat.”

“I wasn't planning wearing the coat,” Moira said, turning her eyes away. The coat made her feel uncomfortable. It was like a flaming arrow, pointing at the very essence of her marriage. All the doting compressed into the lavish fur and hoisted on her shoulders.

“The weather report said there will be snow tonight. You'll catch cold in your wool coat,” Charles said and for a brief flicker Moira hated him for being so sensible, so practical. If Charles catch that, he didn't show it. “You should go get dressed. You don't want to be late.”

“No, we wouldn't want that,” Moira said and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. He smiled at her, the same soft loving smile that was only meant for her, and her alone.

***  
”I didn't expect a call from you tonight, Mrs. Xavier.”

”Why? You had other plans? I was at the mission debriefing. My husband's team pretty much handed you your ass in South America,” Moira said and dropped her handbag on the empty chair. "So I'm quite certain that you have nothing but free time at the moment."

The room was like any other, in the dozens of other hotels in the city. Cold, clean and impersonal, the way Moira preferred. She knew Erik had a safe house somewhere in the city and if she asked, he would take her there. She would never ask. She liked the hotels, the idea of neutral ground. Whatever happened in this room, after the fact the sheets would be washed and the dirt wiped away, everything disinfected and made new again.

Moira folded her mink coat neatly on top of her handbag. The first flakes of snow had fluttered down when she had left, and the crystals of snow glittered against the black fur for a moment before melting away. Moira kicked off her shoes and removed the diamond hairpin, shaking her hair open. She dropped the pin on the floor.

Erik watched her every move. He seemed relaxed as he leaned against the windowpane, arms crossed, half hidden in the shadows.

“That quick mouth of yours, Mrs. Xavier. One of these days, you say one wrong thing too many. Someone should teach you to bite your tongue.”

“I suppose you are offering a lesson?”

“Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me, slut.”

His voice was quiet and cold. Moira dropped down without thinking and crawled to him, swaying her hips and arching her back like a cat. She looked at the hem of her black dress, the way it dragged against the floor, how the thick silk gathering the dirt. Erik didn't move until her chin touched his leg. With a swift move he grabbed her by the neck, pulling her up to her knees. Moira didn't struggle, she just hung in his grip and waited, staring up to him.

“Do you have a clever quip in mind that you would like to share Mrs. Xavier, or shall we move along with the lesson?”

“Quit the fucking foreplay,” Moira said, pressing against Erik's hand. “My husband expects me home before midnight.”

Erik's smile was as cold and white as the falling snow outside the window. “Better go to work then, slut.”

Moira raised her hands to his belt and slid the thick leather through the buckle, then snapped the button and pulled the zipper. He was ready for her. She opened her mouth and took him in, prepared for the inevitable thrust that he did on purpose, only to hear her choke. She knew him, and the things he loved to do to her. So she relaxed her muscles, allowed him to thrust in her throat as he pleased, his strong hands wrapped around her head. Erik didn't speak to her when he fucked her like this. Sometimes he stroked her hair, or her face, but mostly he just watched her struggle in his hands.

She never knew how long it would last. Sometimes he didn't want her mouth at all, sometimes it was all he wanted. Tonight Erik got bored quickly. He just threw her away from him with more force than was absolutely necessary. Moira sprawled on the hard floor, staring at the ceiling. There was a crack there, covered with a patch different color plaster.

“Is that pretty mouth all you got to offer, slut?”

Moira pulled the hem of her dress up, revealing the lace trimmed silk socks and the black garter belt. Nothing more.

Erik laughed, dark and low, and then he was on top of her, his weight pinning her down. He thrust in her and she was ready, she had been ready since the moment she had walked into the room. Erik had known it too, known that in this bleak room he could do anything to her. He fucked her hard, without mercy or kindness, just slamming her against the floor again and again, until she was sure that this time she would loose her sanity, that this was the black pit she would not return from. The pleasure was sparkling arc of light, shattering her body.

Erik bit down on the soft curve of her breast, pushed up by the bodice. He didn't held back, her skin tearing from the strength of the bite. Moira shrieked in pain and that moment Erik pulled out to spill on her stomach. There was a speck of her blood on his chin.

Erik stood up and straightened his clothes and returned back to the window. He leaned against the window frame, and stared at the swirling snow behind the glass. Moira just laid there for a moment longer, before straightening the hem of her dress and pushing up from the floor.

“My regards to your husband.”

Moira walked to her things, picked up her shoes and wrapped the mink coat around her shoulders. She stopped for a moment to close the little clasp at the front, and while she stood there, the hairpin rose from the floor and was gently tucked back to her messed hair by an invisible hand.  
Moira didn't turn to look at him. She walked out and closed the door behind her.

***  
The front yard was coated with fresh snow as Moira pulled her car up to the front door. She got out carefully, watching her step. Her heels clicked against the stones as she walked to the door, the foyer light left on for her. She flipped it shut when she got inside, and made sure that the door was locked tight. She walked upstairs, knocked quietly on Charles' door and walked in without waiting for an answer.

He looked up from his book, and smiled. It was the same smile he had given her when she had left, and it made Moira's heart ache with love.

“How was your evening?”

“I should go wash up first. I just wanted to see if you were still up.”

“No no, please. Come here. Tell me.”

Moira walked to the bed and sat next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her. “Well?”

“Do you really want to hear, or would you rather see?”

“You choose,” Charles said and waited while Moira thought about it.

“Should I keep the coat on?”

“If you like. You look very beautiful in it.”

Moira opened the coat a bit, and pulled the bodice aside to reveal the mark. The gash was red and swollen, the blood dried into flakes. Moira took his hand and guided it to her knee, leaving it there, letting him decide how much he wanted to experience. Charles leaned to kiss the gash on her chest, tracing the teeth marks with his lips. Moira played the evening inside her mind like a piece of film. Her skin felt hot and tight, the wound pained by Charles' touch.

“Should we stop?” he asked quietly, but Moira just shook her head.

“No. You don't want to stop.”

Charles didn't say anything. Moira closed her eyes and let him go on, tracing the ghost touches from her skin.


End file.
